


The Fire That Needed Oxygen

by itz_me_E



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Abusive Parents, Abusive Relationships, Airbending & Airbenders, Assassination, Assassins, Backstory, Bad Community, Bending (Avatar), Character Death, Combustionbending, F/M, Falling In Love, Firebending & Firebenders, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Love, Military Backstory, Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), combustion bending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:01:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28795068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itz_me_E/pseuds/itz_me_E
Summary: P’li’s backstory and my take on it. This is based off art by @silima.art on instagram and her recent P’li post.I hope you enjoy!
Relationships: Ghazan & Zaheer (Avatar), Ming-Hua & Zaheer (Avatar), P'Li & Zaheer (Avatar), P'li/Zaheer (Avatar)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	The Fire That Needed Oxygen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [@silima.art on instagram](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%40silima.art+on+instagram).



> TW: Abuse and Attempted Rape

The earthbender was no match for P’li. Being a trained assassin had its perks, including knowing how to aim and aim well. Bracing herself, she heard the familiar clicks of her bending. 

She had never learned how to stop her own bending. 

—————————————————————

P’li was born to a quiet village. 

As a baby, she had always been loud. Whether it was her crying or her laughing, maybe even babbling unintelligible words, she had been loud.

It was just how she was. 

The village, being small, was her home and her family. She grew up knowing everyone and everything.

As a toddler, she watched her daddy go to work to train with fire, always having a new burn or coming back with new protective wear. 

She would never get why her daddy always left and came back more weary. She supposed she would never know. 

Her mom called her away from the memorial of the brave soldiers that protected their village against a huge bandit attack.

—————————————————————

P’li was 4 when her mother had fallen ill. 

Her mother had never liked her loudness, no one really did, but now she was more irritable than ever. 

She was given toys and beginner books to play with while she was sent to her room, always told to be quiet.

Mother’s doctor was loud, mother was loud, everyone but her. P’li didn’t mind.

Her mother would get better and she could dance with her just like the fire she was watching. P’li always wondered if she would be able to touch it like her mother.

She would ask one day.

The day never came.

—————————————————————

P’li was 6 years old when she realized something was super wrong.

Being raised by the village, she was always going from house to house. Though, she supposed, the teacher was the main one that took her in.

She loved that teacher.

Her hand went to her head again as even more pressure built up. It hurt.

P’li had gotten mad because this boy had taken her stuffed mooselion! That’s all! She had grabbed him and tried to take back her beloved toy, but he fell to the ground instead.

Crying, he told the teacher. P’li was reprimanded which made her even more mad because it was her toy! He shouldn’t have had it in the first place.

It was the last thing from her parents. It was hers!

Her head ached again and she wailed again. She had ran off behind a close hill, shaking with anger and fear.

Why did her head hurt so bad?

She opened her eyes, sniffling. This wouldn’t have happened if her toy wasn’t taken in the first place. Grabbing a rock, she stood up.

Staring straight ahead, she threw the rock. Glaring at where it landed, the pressure built up.

P’li wailed at the pain as she heard clicks go off. 

A blast was heard and P’li was sent flying through the air. 

She was wailing when he found her. She sniffled as he picked her up and coddled her, making sure she was ok. She cried as he touched her forehead.

He was the one to take her in.

—————————————————————

P’li is 9 years old. 

Training is so boring, she thought. She hated it. Sure, her aim wasn’t perfect, yet, but she was trying! She never even had a day off.

She aimed again, bracing herself for the knockback of her blast as clicks went off.

P’li grinned as the fire hit her target. 

Looking over, she was going to ask if she did well. Maybe she could even have a break.

He met her with a cold look. “Again.”

P’li should’ve known better than to hope for anything.

—————————————————————

He threw her against the wall.

“You think you can just run away, girl?” the man yelled.

P’li cowered back, eyes wide and fixating a glare. She was 10.

“I just-”

“No!” he roared, slapping her upside the head.

She had tears falling down her face now, trying not to sob.

“I won’t do it again, I promise!” she pleaded. “Please, I’m sorry!”

He glared. “This is your position, soldier. You will stay at your stand.”

She nodded, hiccuping.

He would be back later to make sure she was ok, she knew. He just had to cool down.

She will be the perfect soldier for him. He took her in, after all.

—————————————————————

P’li had learned to be quiet at age 11.

Sneaking out to get a midnight snack and drink was dangerous, she knew. She was supposed to be sleeping, but she couldn’t if her stomach was rumbling.

She was a growing girl, sprouting up a couple inches in the last month. It wouldn’t hurt to have a small piece of bread, right?

P’li made it a month before someone found out. Luckily, it wasn’t.. him. Unluckily, this woman seemed to want something from her.

She didn’t have anything for this lady. P’li was confused about what this lady could want.

When the lady tried to grab her and pull her close, P’li did not think. All she did was scream and kick.

“Help! Warlord Izuku, please!” 

The lady covered her mouth with her hand and tugged on P’li’s long hair to get her to shut up.

All she did was cry in pain. 

Suddenly, there was a cry of pain and along with the sound of sizzling. The wailing sound went on for forever.

P’li scrambled back, eyes wide not making any sound. She experienced her first death that day.

Warlord Izuku turned around, eyes wide. He pulled her up by her arm and crushed her in a hug. She cried into his shoulder.

He was her savior. He later punished her with less sleep and less food, but that was ok.

P’li knew what she was doing was wrong, anyways.

—————————————————————

P’li was 13 when she was deemed a master by the Warlord himself.

Her combustion bending was as close to perfect as they could get tomperfect without a proper teacher, and P’li was ecstatic.

The use of her bending had left a mark, maybe a scar of some sort, from its use. Whenever P’li stared at it, she thought of how far she had come.

It was a mark of her success.

So when he surprised her with the gift of her combustion tattoo, P’li didn’t know how to feel.

“Are you not grateful for what you have been gifted?”

P’li’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “No! I love my gift. I just, my mark is a symbol of how far I’ve come in my bending. The tattoo would cover it up.”

Warlord Izuku gave a small chuckle as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “I know what you mean. My sleeve of the dragon covered up my first ever scar by knife. It was also my first fight.” he said, raising an eyebrow at her.

She nodded.

He looked back out the window. “It was a bittersweet moment, but covering up my scar does not mean it is not still there and a part of me. It just means I have taken another step forward. Besides, I have many other scars to make up for that one.”

P’li nodded. “This tattoo would be an addition to me, a further symbol of my skill.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “Let’s go get that tat, shall we?”

P’li smiled up at him. She was still unsure, but she’d do it. 

For her savior.

—————————————————————

P’li was 14 when she got her first assignment. 

After her tattoo, she was immediately upgraded to Warlord Izuku’s personal assassin. She had been trained all her life for that.

It was an honorable position.

P’li slinked through the house, not making a sound. She had learned to be quiet at 11 years old, so she was a pro.

She peeked into another room and saw a child, sleeping peacefully. Her stomach twisted as she shut it and kept pushing forward.

She had to do this.

Her assignment was a fat, old, rich man who practically cut off all money to his village. He was a horrible person. (He had a family.)

P’li opened another door and saw the man, sleeping at his desk. She looked around again, making sure the room was empty.

She peeked around the door and focused. She had to do this. 

She heard the clicks and changed aim.

P’li ran. 

She ran through the house, down the stairs and out the window from which she had originally come. The guy had yelled and seemed to be coming after her. Was he an earthbender? P’li didn’t know.

She ran through the garden and met a wall where the man came up with an axe. So, not an earthbender. P’li braced herself.

Warlord Izuku bashed the man's head in, grabbing P’li by the shoulder and dragging her along.

P’li trembled. She had failed. Spirits, she had failed! What now? Would she be killed? 

Warlord Izuku threw her to the ground. He kicked her side and sent her rolling. 

P’li yelped and tried to gain her breath again as he yelled.

“What was that?! You are supposed to kill him, why didn’t you?!”

“He has a family!” P’li yelled, glaring. 

Silence followed. P’li cradled her stomach and stood up, keeping eye contact.

“When you have an assignment,” he started “their family is irrelevant. Their humanity is irrelevant. Who they were is irrelevant.” 

P’li gulped.

“We take out the people who hurt and don’t care for others' humanity, so we must do the same for them. Kill the kid.” he ordered.

“W-what?” P’li gasped.

“That was an order, soldier!” he commanded.

“Yes sir!” P’li answered, straightening.  
Two blasts went off that night. One missed, one didn’t.

—————————————————————

P’li was 16 years old when she realized she hated it here.

She was finally allowed into the village, only to be seen as a killer and a monster. She was a soldier, shouldn't she be treated as such?

Her last assignment was the leader of the raiders that had killed her father and she had done it. She was a hero!

P’li quickly learned assassins don’t get any recognition, the person they work for does.

She hated that she couldn’t make any friends. She hated that all her hard work had seemed to go to waste. Why was she even here anymore? She could easily leave, the road was right there.

P’li turned around. She couldn’t do that to Warlord Izuku, who never seemed to even speak to her anymore. Not unless it was about an assignment.

She sighed. She will be ok. This was her home and she had her job and she had safety. That’s all she needed.

Right?

—————————————————————

P’li was 17 when she fell in love.

The boy, who introduced himself as Zaheer, had startled her when she first saw him. He had come out of thin air, behind a hill.

As she grew to know him and how he was loud while somehow being calm. How Zaheer felt so strongly that leaders abuse their power, that freedom is what everyone deserves.

When she told him of the Warlord, Zaheer told her she needed freedom too.

But P’li was free, wasn’t she?

She tried to think of what she could do and only came up with what she couldn’t.

She couldn’t eat or sleep whenever she wanted.

She couldn’t defect from her mission.

She couldn’t have friends.

She couldn’t leave.

She really couldn’t do anything. 

But Zaheer gave back a lot of that, didn’t he? P’li considered him a friend. He had also introduced her to his friends, Ming Hua and Ghazan. 

Maybe Zaheer, in actuality, only gave back the freedom of having friends, which was great. But P’li, now having a taste of being really free, wanted so much more. She could have so much more.

Until, he found out.

He hated their ideals and he would never tell P’li why. It became a constant fight, sometimes literally. 

He would hit her and throw her and slap her while she would yell at him for taking away this one thing that made her happy. Why couldn’t she have this one thing?!

She didn’t see Zaheer until a week later. It was night and all P’li had to say was ok.

Zaheer knew what she meant.

He grabbed her hand and rubbed his thumb over her knuckle.

“It will be ok, P’li.”

—————————————————————

P’li walked through her home, trying to start a conversation with anyone.

She was turned away.

Maybe this time it was because of the bruise under her eye, or the scratch on her cheek. But, as more and more people rejected her, she found herself not caring.

A woman hit her son and her son wailed, she turned away.

Humanity had been lost in this village. Her original job was to throw away hers to perform efficiently.  
Zaheer had told her that it was a cycle, that her humanity was needed so she could recognize the wrong doings and to keep herself sane. 

P’li believed him.

That night, P’li walked through a village.

The flames had spread from the Warlords base throughout the town, burning everything in its path.

The screams had long since died down and she wasn’t sure anyone had survived.

She breathed in and felt the flames around her.

Zaheer wrapped his arms around her and she hugged back. She was free.

—————————————————————

“The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth.” P’li read out loud. “I wonder who that line is about.”

P’li was 25 now, walking over to her boyfriend and leaning down to put her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek.

Zaheer smiled. “Your story is one of many, my love.”

P’li chuckled. “And you are the one who seems to have such a way with words.”

—————————————————————

Metal clung around P’li’s head as a bright light and a loud, louder than ever before, bang went off.

P’li fell.


End file.
